


The Stories We Tell

by kristin



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 3, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-13
Updated: 2011-03-13
Packaged: 2017-10-16 22:39:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/170152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristin/pseuds/kristin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Octavia starts rubbing creams over the bed of my nails. "When I was little my mother used to tell me stories while she did my nails."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Stories We Tell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iceshade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iceshade/gifts).



I am bored. I know I should be marveling over the contraptions and lush fabrics that fill up this room, but it hard to concentrate on anything when the air is filled with sweet steam and the three members of my prep team are fluttering about my body poking and prodding. Apparently I am in bad shape but am "not to worry, pet, because you do have some striking qualities."

One of, Octavia, titters and says, "At least you aren't a ball of pudge like me." She gestures a green hand down across her belly, which protrudes only the slightest bit.

I try to hide my initial reaction, which is to grimace in disgust. Not at the extra pounds, but at the way she seems to hate them. I wish I had the chance to get a little bigger. I will need every bit of flesh to make it through the Games. But Haymitch told me to go along with them, and so I just change the subject.

"How long before I get to see my outfit for the opening?" I ask. I keep my voice pitched high, mimicking the tones of my prep team.

Apparently this tactic worked. They all coo in response.

"Oh, don't worry. Cinna is marvelous," says Venia. It wasn't what I was asking, but at least it wasn't a topic that made me want to scream about the waste and sloth I saw everywhere in the Capital. "Actually, I am going to run and let him know how we are doing when Octavia does your nails."

I look down at my hands, wondering what torture they were going to be put through. Flauvius walk out with Venia, their voices raising and falling in a quick patter, leaving me alone with Octavia. She is pulling out rows and rows of bottles, reaching out and snatching one down in a quick motion.

She grabs one of my hands next, lays it out flat. I can't hide my twitch as I instinctively try to pull it back. "This won't hurt even a little bit. I can't imagine ever working on anything that would hurt someone!" Octavia says.

I think about the Games to come and don't say a word in response. She starts rubbing creams over the bed of my nails. "When I was little my mother used to tell me stories while she did my nails. She was very talented, you know. She could have been a stylist if she really wanted to."

"Tell me one?" I ask, mostly just to distract myself.

She looks around quickly before lowering her voice and starting, "Once upon a time-"

The story is rather silly, about some kind of mut with fins rather than legs who falls in love with something called a _prince_. The most interesting thing about it, to me, anyway, is the way Octavia cuts off abruptly when Flauvius walks back in. Instead she starts nattering about color schemes and complexions.

Much later on I tell Haymitch about it. He is always drunk again, now that we are back in District 12, so I not surprised by the bitter laugh. But I did not expect it when he slurs out, "Stupid woman, fairy tales are not supposed to be told, not even in the Capital."

"Fairy tales?" I ask.

But he does respond, explaining in a voice even more bitter than normal, "They tell you love conquers all. And the Capital doesn't like to be conquered by anything."

  
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